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I held the club in my right hand, the torch in my left and leaned my back against the wall.
I waited; and somewhere in the darkness, not far away, the rat waited too.
IV
The luminous hands of my wrist watch pointed to twenty minutes past four. I had been in the
shaft a little over two hours. I had five cigarettes left, and the light of the torch was turning
orange. I had been switching it on and off every five minutes for the past half-hour while I
waited and listened, trying to make it last as long as possible.
I had heard no sound nor seen anything. The stale, dank air was making me feel sleepy. It was
only by smoking and concentrating hard on the glowing tip of the cigarette that I managed to
keep awake. I had tied my handkerchief round my throat to offer some resistance if the rat went
for me. It gave me an optimistic feeling of safety.
I had got over my panic - or, rather, I had worn it out. There s a limit to fear, and after the
first hour I had got on top of it. But I had given up all hope of getting out of this jam. My one
thought was to kill the rat before it killed me. Beyond that I had no thoughts.
The two hours had dragged by like two months. There was nothing to do except smoke and
watch and listen, and think of the rat. The hands of my watch crawled on.
Then the rustling sound began again. The sound of the hard rings around the rat s tail rubbing
along the floor. I threw a stone in the direction of the sound and heard a little scurry. Well, he
wasn t hungry yet. I threw another stone to drive him farther away.
The dying light of the torch worried me. I turned it off, sitting now in the darkness, breathing
gently and listening. I sat there for perhaps ten minutes with my eyes closed, and I must have
dozed off. Then something happened that drove the blood out of my heart and brought me wide
awake: something touched my foot and moved along my leg.
I snapped on the torch, a cold prickle shooting up my spine, my left hand grabbing at the
club. For one horrible moment I saw the rat within inches of me, creeping towards me, pressed
flat on the ground, its red eyes gleaming viciously. As the yellowing beam of the torch hit it, it
swerved away and was gone, moving like lightning, and leaving me gulping in the close air,
petrified and sweating.
Then out of the darkness, beyond the feeble light, four pairs of red sparks suddenly appeared,
spaced about a foot apart and in a semicircle before me. Four now, not one.
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I yelled at them: my voice harsh and off-key, but they didn t move. I grabbed a handful of
stones and threw them. The red eyes vanished, but reappeared almost immediately, a little
closer, if anything. I yelled again.
 Vic!
I started up.
Had I imagined that faint call, somewhere in the darkness? I raised my voice and let out a yell
that echoed like a thunder-clap down the tunnel.
 Vic! Where are you?
 Here! Down the tunnel!
I was so excited I forgot the rats. I was yelling now like a madman, and my yells changed to a
yelp as a furry brown body suddenly streaked into the light and teeth snapped with a click into
the folds of the handkerchief round my neck.
I felt the weight of its body on my chest, and smelt the dirt in its fur. Its wet nose was thrust
under my chin as its teeth tried to cut through the folds of the handkerchief to get at my throat.
I nearly went crazy. Grabbing the sleek, horribly fat body, I tore it away from my throat. I felt
it twist in my hand. The loathsome pointed head whipped round and razor-like teeth fastened
into my wrist. In a kind of frenzy I dug my fingers into the fur, bent its back sideways, hearing
its shrill squeal. The teeth came out of my wrist. Before it could strike again, I snapped its
spine, feeling the bone go like a dry stick between my fingers. Shuddering with horror I threw
the brute away from me.
 Vic!
 Here!
My voice croaked.
At the far end of the tunnel I saw a tiny pin-point of light.
 I m coming. Paula s voice: the sweetest sound I ve ever heard.
 Down here. Mind how you come. There re rats.
 I m coming.
The light moved steadily towards me, growing brighter. A minute or so later Paula dropped
on her knees beside me, and caught hold of my hands.
 Oh, Vic!
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I drew in a deep, shuddering breath and tried to grin at her, but my face felt frozen.
 Paula! Jeepers! Am I glad to see you! How did you get here?
Her hand touched my face.
 It ll wait. Are you hurt? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]